They left early in the morning: dew edged the tips of the bamboo grass and turned spiders’ webs into jewels. As always, she felt the spiritual peace of the temple drawing her toward it, and as the two women walked in silence, she felt the familiar sense of awe settle over her. Naomi’s head was covered by a wide shawl, and she wore simple clothes, like an ordinary pilgrim. She had not sent messengers ahead, and her arrival was unexpected.
In the main courtyard and around the women’s guest room, the cherry blossoms were already past their peak, and the pink and white petals lay thick on the ground. Scarlet azaleas and peonies, white with red tips, were just coming into bloom.
Naomi walked in the gardens and sat for a long time by the pool, watching the red and gold carp milling below the surface of the water. She had begun to believe that she was indeed just a simple pilgrim, divested of all the cares and anxieties of her life, when her reverie was interrupted by the appearance of the Abbot, Matsuda Shingen.
He came quickly toward her.
“Lady Maruyama! I had no idea you were here. Forgive me for not welcoming you before.”
“Lord Abbot.” She bowed to the ground.
“This is unexpected-but of course we are always honored by your presence…”
He seemed to finish on a questioning note. When she made no response, he said, very quietly, “Lord Shigeru is here.”
The blood rushed through her body as though it would burst out. She felt her eyes widen like a madwoman’s, and she struggled to control herself.
“I did not know,” she said calmly. “I hope Lord Otori is in good health.” It was all she could manage. I should never have come. His presence must have drawn me here. I must leave at once. If I do not see him, I will die.
“He is making a retreat in the mountains,” Matsuda replied. “He comes here from time to time-though we have not seen him for many months. I thought perhaps an arrangement had been made-like the previous time.”
“No,” she replied hurriedly. “It is a coincidence.”
“So I do not need to send a message to Lord Shigeru?”
“Certainly not. I must not intrude on his meditation-and in any case, it is better than we do not meet.”
He seemed to gaze searchingly at her, but he did not press the subject.
They went on to speak of other things: the situation at Maruyama, Naomi’s daughter, the beauty of the spring weather. Then he excused himself, and she remained alone while the day drew to its close and a silver sickle moon rose above the mountains, accompanied by the evening star.
The chill air of night finally drove her inside. Sachie was even more attentive than usual. Naomi felt her companion’s concern and longed to talk to her but did not dare: once she began to unburden herself, she feared she would lose all control. She bathed in the hot springs beneath moon and starlight, aware of the whiteness of her skin through the steam and the water, ate a little, and retired early before the moon was even halfway across the heaven. She lay awake most of the night, thinking of the moon and how her body followed its cycle. As the moon began to increase, she knew she was at her most fertile: all the more reason not to see him, for to conceive a child now would be a disaster; yet her body, ignorant of all her fears, longed for him with its own animal innocence.
Toward dawn she slept a little but was woken by the insistent cries of sparrows beneath the eaves, driven by spring to mate and nest. She rose quietly and put on a robe but not quietly enough for Sachie, who woke and said, “Lady? Can I fetch you anything?”
“No. I will walk a little outside before the sun is up. Then we will return to Yamagata.”
“I will come with you,” Sachie said, pushing aside the quilt.
Naomi heard herself say, “I am not going far. I would rather be alone.”
“Very well,” Sachie replied, after a moment.
I am possessed, Naomi thought, and indeed she seemed to be moving without volition, as if drawn by spirits through the dew-soaked garden and up into the mountain.
The world had never seemed more beautiful as the mist that hung around the peaks gradually dissolved and the light turned from gray to gold. She had meant to return once the sun had cleared the steep range to the east, but even after that, when the air became warmer, she found reasons to keep walking-just around the next bend, just to look at the view over the valley-until the path leveled out into a small clearing where a huge oak rose from the spring grass.
Shigeru lay on his back, his arms behind his head. At first she thought he must be asleep, but as she approached, she saw his eyes were wide open.
It must be a dream, she thought. I will awaken soon, and she did what she would have done in the dream, lay down next to him, taking him in her arms, laying her head on his chest, saying nothing.
She could feel his heart beating against the flesh and bones of her face. She breathed at the same time as he did. He turned slightly and put his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.
The ache of separation dissolved. She felt the tension and fear of the last years drain from her. All she could think about was his breath, his heartbeat, the urgency and hardness of his body, her complete desire for him, and his for her.
Afterward she thought, Now I will wake
